Love What you Hate
by SuperWhoLockRules
Summary: Natasha Campbell hates the Scarecrow for letting the person most precious to her die at the hand of the Joker, but something about him interests her. No matter how hard she tries, she just can't kill him.
1. Chapter 1

Her blood dripped onto the pristine white snow, leaving the warmth of Natasha's body, steaming slightly in the frigid air. Her knees connected to the ground hard as she clutched at the bullet wound in her stomach. She should have known better than to attempt to break into the Joker's place on the outskirts of Gotham with such little backup of her own. Luckily, the Scarecrow had an alliance with her and had tagged along with a few of his men just in case. Two of them noticed her on the ground and firing at the goon who had shot her, made their way to Natasha and lifted her up.

She hadn't ever been shot before, she was a new leader to one of the many gangs in Gotham and she wasn't sure how to react. The adrenaline wore off and a wave of pain washed over her. A scream of pain escaped her lips as she slipped back toward the powdered snow. Her voice brought the Scarecrow himself back around the farmhouse the Joker had taken refuge in. He jerked his head, silently ordering his men to take her back to the group of cars waiting by the curb.

Natasha faced backwards as the Scarecrow's men dragged her back to the group of SUVs and she watched as the man fired a bullets at the Joker's goons and sprayed his toxic hallucinogen gas in their direction. The first wave of men went down in a flurry of gunshots and screams of pure terror as the gas took effect. The group of the Scarecrow and Natasha's followers all piled into the many eight seater SUVs that had brought them to the old farm in the first place. Scarecrow jumped in with Natasha to make sure she survived the trip to the hospital. He put gentle pressure over the bloody hole in her belly to slow the bleeding; Natasha's face was losing color by the minute.

"Step on it or you'll get a matching hole in your stomach." he threatened the driver calmly. The goon shot an alarmed glance at the pair of criminals in the back seat before the SUV sped up considerably. The other gunmen in the back kept quiet in fear of angering their boss. The hospital grew nearer and nearer as their vehicle weaved through the few cars on the street quickly. The combination of Bane, the Joker, and a few other mob bosses was enough to keep most people in their homes these days.

The van had barely stopped the Scarecrow emerged holding Natasha in his arms. A few moments earlier, he had thrown his trademark mask in the backseat and replaced it with his black rimmed glasses, transforming from the feared, masked man into the ex-psychologist Dr. Jonathan Crane. The minute he stepped in the lobby, a team of nurses whisked Natasha away on a stretcher, shouting her analysis to each other.

"Female, 5'5", mid-twenties bullet wound to the left side, possible fractured rib." As they rolled Natasha away, Crane turned back toward the receptionist, giving her his information before exiting the hospital. Natasha would be fine, she was a tough girl.

The only reason he didn't leave her to bleed out in the cold was because her gang was a group of heavily muscled men and they supplied him with guns. That was what he tried to convince himself of anyway. Weapons were in high demand as Gotham became more and more dangerous with all sorts of mob activity. A mass breakout had led waves of criminals from Arkham Asylum to the streets of the city; now there were more madmen in Gotham City than normal citizens. Many of them took refuge in the Narrows, the hood part of town which unfortunately was where the ex psychologist had taken refuge with his men. However, as he thought more he began to question whether or not that was his real reason for saving Natasha.

Crane slid into the passenger seat of the SUV and as they began their fifteen minute drive back to the apartment building he had taken over. In the back seats, his followers argued and bragged about how many of the clown's men they had killed, turning the deaths into a competition. He said nothing almost the entire drive, he just wasn't feeling up to being in a room with anyone, let alone a car full of boisterous criminals. For some unknown reason, the doctor's thoughts returned to the woman you was likely to be having a surgery to have the bullet removed. But why? She was nothing to him, simply a benefactor of weapons and extra backup if he needed it. The driver's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Hey boss, you okay?" he inquired, glancing at the thin man in the seat next to him.

"Self-analysis." the Scarecrow explained shortly. Old habits die hard and being a psychologist had taught him to stay calm and dissect his brain when he was confused or distressed.

When they pulled up in front of the old apartments, Crane simply stepped out of the car.

"Bring in my mask." he ordered over his shoulder striding over the threshold. The moment he reached the top floor he immediately locked himself in the suite he had claimed as his. He poured himself a glass of wine and resumed his earlier thoughts of Natasha. Eventually, he decided that he couldn't cope without the guns that her group provided and that he was worried that her bikers wouldn't give him the firearms and ammunition. The girl was like their god, they feared her and needed her to instruct them. They certainly wouldn't give him anything if she didn't personally order it.

Finishing off his wine, Dr. Crane moved to the bedroom that was walled off from the rest of the suite and stretched out on the bed, letting his mind wander over his most recent plan for Gotham. His last thought before letting sleep consume him was realizing that he might have to start without Natasha's backup, depending on when she was released. He was surprised to find that he relied on her so much, almost ashamed of it. The thought made him angry.

He might just have to kill her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two! Please review, even if it's just a suggestion and I'll try to incorporate it in here. **

**I don't own Batman, except for Natasha. (p.s. did you notice that "Natasha" is " Ah Satan" backward?)**

Natasha lay in her hospital bed, bored. It had been weeks since she had been on a raid or sped around the city on her black Kawasaki motorcycle. A few of her men had visited bringing news of the outside world and asking for orders on staying alive in their current situation. Every time she managed to steer them away from losing good thugs, but she wanted to be out in the gray, polluted city, pulling triggers and taking over Gotham, life by life.

The brunette blew a stray strand of long, reddish auburn hair from her face. Her bandages had been removed a few days prior and she didn't see the point of lounging around any longer. The moment she got out, she would sent an entire shipment of guns to the Scarecrow for not listening to her and thus, saving her life. That still confused her, however. He was perfectly capable of leaving her to be tortured and beaten by the Joker and his ruthless band, but he didn't. Natasha laughed cruelly to herself. Of course, he knew she would send him guns one she was discharged from the hospital. She decided then and there to give him half the amount of weaponry that she had previously deemed necessary.

The nurse came into her room carrying a clipboard, scanning it with a relaxed expression before giving her a smile full of white teeth.

"Natasha Campbell, twenty-six, bullet wound to the left side?"

"That's me." Natasha stated simply raising her hand. Another perfect, white smile.

"Well, we're releasing you in a couple of hours. You're welcome to wear the clothes that you were brought in or those scrubs that you're wearing now."

"Thanks, options are great, I like it when life is multiple-choice. Now, where would I find my clothes exactly?" Natasha remarked with a hint of sarcasm.

"Right in the closet over there" he said nodding at the cabinet near the corner of the room.

"Thanks, sweetheart. I'll call if I need anything." Natasha grinned sarcastically, throwing off the thin hospital sheets covering her body. Still beaming, the nurse nodded once and left without closing the door. Natasha sighed frustratedly. A few more hours? She needed out now. Why was there a certain hour that he had to wait for until she was "allowed" to leave? For now, she decided to put it to the back of her mind and get dressed.

"Idiot. Why would I want to go on the streets in puke green scrubs?" she asked to no one looking down in disgust at the thin, puffy material covering her body. Natasha slammed the door shut and walked silently to the small cupboard next to that bathroom. She was just glad to be getting out of the stupid hospital. Three weeks was too long to stay idle in Gotham.

In the tiny closet, Natasha found that her clothes had been washed and folded neatly on the shelves and her socks and boots on the floor at the bottom. Piece by piece, she dressed: dark skinny jeans, a gray tank top, black leather jacket (luckily not the one with her gang patch, she would have been sent to jail, not let out to roam free), and her black combat boots. She strode to the bathroom and yanked the hospital hairbrush through her dark brown hair, making it presentable. When he had washed her face, she decided that she was bored with her room and it's sickly white walls that reminded her of death himself.

When Natasha stepped out, he instantly regretted her decision. She had wandered the halls several times before with a nurse but hadn't found anyone well enough to carry on a good conversation with. She decided to give herself a detailed tour of the building instead to see if it held anything for her besides injured drunk drivers and elderly people. If not, she would blow it up later, along with every sorry soul inside it. _They _certainly weren't valuable to her and were therefore unimportant. And so naive, believing that their precious Batman would always save them. Both Natasha's tour and her thoughts were cut short in the lobby when a familiar face caught her attention.

"Hey babe." the man grinned at her.

"Axel! What're you doing here?" Natasha asked her husband of three years excitedly. If it weren't for Axel, she would have snapped years ago and become more ruthless and bloodthirsty as Bane.

"I heard they're letting you out later rather than sooner and I came to see if I could intimidate them into lettin' you off early." the muscular biker replied matter-of-factly, cupping his hands around her elbows and drawing her in. Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"Does Gotham need it's favorite gang back?" she inquired with mock innocence. Axel half grinned before locking his arm around her waist, leading her to the receptionist across the room.

"Hey there, Peggy Olson. Can Tasha here be checked out early? She's got-" Axel looked at his wife almost like he was asking for help. "-Important personal business that has been put off for about three weeks too long." Without even asking for an explanation, the blonde receptionist nodded.

"Alright, what's the full name?" she asked sweetly shooting a smile at Natasha.

"Natasha Campbell. The one with the bullet wound?" The receptionist clicked away at her keyboard briefly.

"Yes, there you are! I'll just sign you out…." and just like that, Natasha was free.

A moment later and they were climbing onto Natasha's black Kawasaki motorcycle, each taking a helmet.

"At least the crow is good for something. He got this back right? Dropped it off at The Midnight?" Axel nodded. Natasha pulled her helmet over her head and glanced at the receptionist who had given her freedom.

"I love gullible rookies." Natasha commented as a doctor approached the woman behind the counter, obviously reprimanding her for letting the female biker out four hours too early. With a final grin, Natasha lifted the glass from over her eyes and revved the engine. Once she had the angry doctor's attention, she winked and flipped the glass down again and zoomed down the street, her husband clinging to her waist again.

The couple made no attempt to have a conversation over the roar of the motor. Natasha wondered why the doctor was so angry about letting her go early. He wasn't familiar at all, not from the news or anything. Why was he so determined to keep her in?

"_He's probably just extremely OCD." _she thought. She knew one thing, a strangely angry doctor wasn't going to make her nervous in the slightest, and why would he?

After all, she was one of Gotham's most wanted.

**Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to review, pleeaaase! **


	3. Chapter 3

Natasha's motorcycle purred to a stop outside of The Midnight, the night club that the Midnight Riders had taken over. The brunette switched off the engine and swiped the kickstand down and left her motorcycle at the curb. Her men would have it behind the building in a matter of minutes. Even if they didn't, no one would steal it. Even civilians had enough common sense to generally steer clear of the club.

Upon entering, Natasha and Axel found half of their thugs huddled around the bar, their heads leaned in close whispering about something. The rest were dotted around the large room shooting dirty looks at the whisperers. Some of those apart from the group accused them of trying to stir up trouble.

"May I ask what's so entertaining?" Natasha asked the room, hands on hips. All of the men whipped around. Many of them smiled.

"Hey boss! Long time, no see." Natasha's third in command greeted jokingly.

"Hi, Dimitri." she said without enthusiasm, sounding annoyed. She was more concerned with what half of her men were obviously trying to hide from her. Walking past Dimitri and a few others on her way to the bar, Natasha's boots echoed on the otherwise silent dance floor. Axel lounged next to Dimitri, afraid to get in the way of her angry side, which was probably going to make an appearance. She leaned across the counter to pour herself a shot of tequila.

"How you been keepin', fellas?" Natasha asked dangerously calm. She downed the alcohol and set the glass on the bar, replacing it with a knife from her belt that she had taken from Axel. The bikers nearest to her stiffened and sat up straighter, almost as if to avoid the blade. "What were we talking about that you obviously didn't want me to hear?" The men exchanged glances. Natasha's patience almost ran out when finally, one of the cowards (in her eyes) beckoned his finger. She leaned her ear down, prepared to use the knife in her hands if she needed to. She wasn't prepared however, for the words that came out of the thug's mouth.

"A couple of us overheard the Joker's recruits talking about-" he cast a wary glance at Dimitri and Axel who were playing cards at a table, and Natasha followed his gaze. " '_Taking care_' of Axel." Anger flared inside of her and her eyes narrowed. Using one hand, she slammed the knife into the wooden bar and her men scattered away. Natasha whipped her cell phone out and dialed the Scarecrow's number. It rang three times before the masked man answered.

"How may I help you, Miss Campbell?"

"That's Mrs. Campbell to you, and its been that way since you became aware that I was alive." she snapped into the receiver. It was true. When she first met Axel, she didn't know that he was a criminal. He didn't tell her until after they were engaged but before they were married. She hadn't joined the gang of bikers until after they tied the knot, and to everyone's surprise she adjusted well and rose quickly through the ranks.

"Fine then, _Mrs. _Campbell. Is there a reason behind this call?"

"Have you heard anything of Joker's plans? Anything about killing off my-" she paused,not wanting Axel to hear anything and jump to conclusions. "one of my more important men?" Over the phone, the madman laughed lightly. Of course he had heard. It was his plan he had made with the Joker, and judging by how she paused mid-sentence, the man in question was in the room with her.

"It depends. Which one are you talking about? You do have a number of men you consider necessary."

"You know which one, Crow. Now quit screwing around. If he dies, so do you." Natasha snarled. The ex-psychologist knew she was perfectly capable of killing him. She was almost as stealthy as Catwoman and had no tact, which made her both dangerous and unstoppable.

"Alright, don't waste any bullets. Yes, I heard. I figured that you would want me to wait for you to get out of the hospital so you could, ah-" he paused, searching for the proper words. "_Take care_ of the Joker." there he was, exposing himself with those two words. All she had to do was notice and call him out.

"Okay, well do you at least have a plan ready for me?" Natasha asked, refusing to take her eyes off of Axel for fear that he would suddenly drop dead, no matter how ridiculous it was.

"No. I was waiting for your input as to how you would kill the Joker. I didn't want to spoil any fun you might have." Dr. Crane lied smoothly. He could tell she was taking this very seriously, which was exactly what he wanted.

"And you didn't think to come to me at the hospital about this because…?" Natasha trailed off, getting more and more annoyed by the minute. She pushed her hair back from her face and started toward her bedroom. Axel tried to follow her but she held a finger up to stop him and slammed the door behind her.

"I sent one of my men over two days ago." Natasha heard pleading then gunshots over the phone. "He was a coward anyway." the Scarecrow muttered and sighed. "Well, I assume you would like to meet somewhere and make a plan as to how to stop the Joker?" Although the man couldn't see, Natasha grinned sarcastically.

"Awww, how'd you guess? You'll be here at…" she checked the time, 3:34 PM. "7:30. That'll give you four hours. If you're late I'll kill you, take your men and get someone else to help me."

"Fine. Don't shoot anyone until I get there." Natasha hung up and tossed her cell phone on the bed. She resisted the urge to punch the wall and instead kicked the bedpost with her heavy boot and splinters sprayed in every direction. Only slightly less frustrated, she sat down hard on the bed and ran her fingers angrily through her hair. God, how was she going to kill the _Joker_? The man was almost inhumanly good at getting out of tight spots. She and the Scarecrow would have to get someone else for backup.

And Natasha knew exactly who she wanted.

**Sorry if this chapter is boring but I needed something to lead into the next part so please just bear with me. I'm working on chapter 4 right now so I'll upload it as soon as I can. Also, I need feedback on my Supernatural fic. It's called The New Girl and I'm not so sure it's working out so well, so if at least ten people want me to continue it I will. Until next time, mis amigos.**


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